Carpe Noctem
by Cinerari
Summary: AU; Priest Ezra causes trouble for vampire Harlock. Vampire Harlock causes trouble for church boy Yama. Church boy Yama causes trouble for everyone.
1. Ab Aeterno

**What's this? Honestly, I don't know. I just wanted to write a gay vampire AU, and it ended up turning into something. It's easy, lazy writing I do when I'm really tired after class, so please don't expect a ton of historical accuracy out of this one. Don't expect anything about of this one really. My girlfriend said I had to post this here so she could read it on her phone. Here you go, Blusey, you butt.**

**There's some minor gore in this one, so be wary. I apologize for any mistakes, and I hope you enjoy something somehow.**

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><p>Next time that young head priest took a walk by himself late at night, he would not have the chance to sneak up on me. Next time he would face me head-on, and I would be the last thing he saw.<p>

For now all I could do was vengefully bleed on the church carpet. I'd left the stake through my shoulder, the spike visible from the corner of my eye. Even with the wound clogged, my blood still seeped out to ruin my clothes and dripped to the floor. It may have shown my trail, but I doubted he would notice it. Presumably, he was still back in the forest surrounding his church. I'd departed faster than his eyes could keep up, and priests had a tendency to think my kind couldn't set foot in a church.

They were quite wrong, of course.

I could smell someone else just down the hall. The gentle drum of their heartbeat pulsed in my ears as though it could have been my own. They would be the one to heal this ugly wound.

The church halls were as dark as a starless night, but I could see just fine. Every corner and ridge of the old stone walls stood out in a soft gray against darker shades. The only light was the dull yellow of a candle spilling from beneath the door of that room down the hall. As I drew closer, I reached back over my shoulder and ripped out the stake with a slight wince. My bones completely unhinged, and without any support, my arm hung down at a slope from my collar. Blood poured in a heated river down my back and chest.

No matter. He would fix that in a moment.

Of course the door squealed on its hinges, loud as a wailing cat. Before I could even glance at the room, its occupant's eyes were on me. He was young, early twenties I assumed. A lean, muscled kid, his hair was an overgrown but neat brunet. His wide eyes reflected gold in the candlelight. As soon as he jumped up from his seat, I almost went for his throat, but he stopped me dead.

"Dear Lord, you need a doctor," he gasped.

Oh dear, he was stupid. I always felt bad about draining the stupid ones.

He rushed forward to examine my shoulder despite the color draining from his face, and I kicked the door closed. It was hard to complain when dinner served itself.

He was a good half-head shorter, and he didn't notice anything amiss until my good hand was on the back of his neck, dragging him in. A small noise of confusion escaped him just before I bit through the smooth skin at the base of his neck. Then I could feel his heartbeat against my fangs, his blood pooling out. He was sweeter than the usual, maybe because he was so young or maybe because I needed it so much. Either way, I appreciated it like a fine dessert wine. The pain from my shoulder faded with each racing pulse of his heart.

Another small sound escaped him, this time a sweet mix of surprise and pleasure. Being bitten wasn't without its perks, and I was quite content to give back to him in some way. The humans I'd asked had told me it started with an all-consuming internal warmth. Next came a sensation spreading out to every inch of the body that they could only tell me was a pleasure better than sex. Eventually, their limbs would begin to cool, starting from the tips of their fingers and toes. That was when I knew to stop. If they cooled off completely, I was left with a corpse reminiscent of a china doll.

My hand slipped down from his neck to trace his chest through his shirt. He was well muscled for a church boy. It was too bad they had that whole chastity nonsense.

Just as my bones realigned, my vision was overcome by flashes of black and white. I opened my eye to find myself on the floor. As I came to understand what had happened, my hand listed up to the side of my head.

He'd hit me. Hm. No one had ever stopped me in the middle. Their strength was usually long gone. Despite the dull ache of my head, I felt a smile itching on my lips. I liked this one.

I glanced up to find him glaring at me as though I'd done something unspeakable. One hand was glued to the bite mark, the other still raised in a fist. "You get out of here, demon," he spat.

It was a true struggle not to smile. He was so naïve. "I'm not a demon," I said as I stood. "One of the priests attacked me without reason, so I was simply making things even."

He'd taken to threatening me with a cross, which was as amusing as always. He held it out like a sword pointed at my chest. His eyes were firm in their belief that it could protect him. "I'm not the one who attacked you, so I don't see how that's fair," he said. "Now you get out of here before I go get my brother."

I wasn't sure why that should to scare me. "What's your name?" I asked.

"Like I'd tell a demon." He continued inching closer to me with the cross as though it would start working from two feet instead of three.

"You're a thick one, aren't you? I'm not a demon. My name is Harlock."

If nothing else, he was brave. "I'm not interested in you," he said. "Leave."

"By the way, you're drooling a bit." I tapped a finger to the corner of my mouth to mirror where his cheek was glistening. He immediately copied the move, scrubbing away the hint that he'd been enjoying himself. His face was a brilliant scarlet, and I could imagine his thoughts were filled with pleas of forgiveness from the Father.

My eye wandered to the parchment he'd been working on when I'd come in. He'd left his quill on it, and a large blot of ink had formed at its tip. But at the top of the page was a name. A name meant hypnosis was a possibility.

"Yama," I smiled. An odd name for a place like this. "You can relax, Yama. I didn't come to bring you harm, and that cross isn't doing anything for you. I'm too old for that." Religious pieces only worked for the first few hundred years. After that I suppose God stopped caring about our blasphemy. We outgrew him, though holy water was still not something I wanted a bath in.

It was clear Yama wasn't sure what to think, wobbling back and forth between his feet. The cross stayed between us, while his eyes glanced around the enclosed room for answers. After a good minute, he opened his mouth. "E-Ezra?" he called.

I blinked. Ezra was the head priest and…his brother? Wonderful. The threat was more viable now that "brother" had a face. I was not healed enough and in no way prepared to face the head priest in such an enclosed space. Bastard child was trying to get me killed.

"What's the matter, Yama?" came the head priest's reply. He sounded the same as he had with me, distant and uninterested as though he had something more important to do. I'd expected more care to touch his voice when it came to his brother.

Yama's eyes flicked to me, and I stared in return. If he was going to rat out my position, then so be it. I didn't approve, but I couldn't blame him for it, nor could I harm him.

It appeared he wanted to say something, his mouth open as though he was still trying to work it out. "What?" his brother snapped from just outside the door. As soon as it swung inward, I lunged for Yama. His heartbeat rose to a trill, like a caught bird struggling against the grasp of a hand. Had he known my true intentions, he could have called my bluff by pulling away. But my fingers dug into his throat just enough to restrict his breathing. I could have torn out his windpipe with a flick of the wrist.

The head priest paused in the doorway as he found me at Yama's back. To the boy's credit, he didn't show his fear. He didn't plead or whimper, and his hands clenched in fists at his sides to subdue his trembling.

"It looks like you weren't dead after all," Ezra said in that dry tone. He looked nothing like Yama. His black hair was chopped short, and his eyes were deep blue. Their sharpness held none of the soft childishness of Yama's. He was taller too, more muscular. I wondered if "brother" was a nickname of some sort. Made sense for a priest.

"I'm a difficult one to kill," I said with a slow smirk. "Now, if you'll step out of the way, I'll be leaving."

The bandolier hanging across his chest still held the stakes he'd used against me, along with a few vials of holy water. He stared at Yama's neck, frowning. It took me a moment to realize it wasn't my hand he was so upset about. "Did you bite him?" he asked through a growl.

"Just a little nip. I can do much worse than a bite." I tightened my fingers long enough to drag a choke of pain from my hostage. I would have to apologize like a proper gentleman later. For that moment, I could only lean down and whisper a gentle assurance into his ear.

Ezra was either insane, or he knew I wasn't going to hurt Yama, because he didn't hesitate to rip a stake from its holder and charge me. How he was planning to stab me though his brother, well, I didn't want to find out. Instead, I shoved Yama one way while dashing the other. Ezra spun on a dime as I whipped around him, but his wild swing at me only cut through my already damaged sleeve.

Then I was out into the hallway, running. I hated running, but I had to finish healing. Then I would return, apologize to Yama for my rude behavior, and tear Ezra's throat out.

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><p>Brother was mad.<p>

I assumed it was because I'd allowed the demon to bite me, but I didn't have time to ask before he'd thrown me in the cellar. The room held no light or warmth. Most of the space was crowded with wine barrels, but even if that had been any different, I wouldn't have been able to see it.

I could only guess it was for my own safety that he'd locked me in the crate. The tight space forced me to crush my legs to my chest. Crosses and nails of silver sealed it outside and inside. Brother doused me in holy water, which was fine until it touched the marks on the side of my neck. The burn had been enough to weaken my knees. Now I could only lay on my side and sleep, though the scuffling of rats woke me what felt like every few minutes. After a few hours, Brother would let me out. I'd already repented my sins. The demon wouldn't touch me again.

But, God, it was so cold. It ate at my skin and sank beneath it. I shivered every few seconds, my arms and legs breaking out in goosebumps in endless waves.

That demon had been warm when he touched me. His eye swam with heated gold. His breath was hot against my skin. Remembering it made me squirm. Devils were unfair, just like I'd heard. Their lies were kind, so sweet you could drown in them. But, God, that bite. I'd been so hot, like the fires of Hell were running through my veins. It should have been painful, but I'd never felt anything so good.

It didn't make sense. The punishment from a demon made me feel so loved. Though he was a lying, scheming cretin, he was so careful. Even when he was harming me, holding me between him and Ezra, the arm around my waist held me with gentleness as though I was a fragile child. Just before he'd pushed me away, his lips had brushed the back of my ear. "It's alright," he'd whispered.

God's form of punishment was the worst Hell I could imagine. I was alone. The darkness was a void that never ended. The cold made me wish for any source of heat. I prayed for forgiveness every time my thoughts wandered to Harlock, but then my mind would fall back to him.

I wanted him there. I wanted his bite again. "Harlock," I whispered into the darkness. I was going to Hell, but I needed that heat.

To get away from the thought, I fell asleep again. Once Ezra let me out of the crate, I knew I would have the sense to repent like a proper man. The prison made me lose myself too much to be considered one.

The first time Ezra had locked me in it I had screamed and cried for hours. I'd clawed at the walls until my fingers were all bleeding and riddled with splinters. I was sure the smears of blood were still there. I had found a fingernail the second time he'd locked me in it.

I'd learned to hide my fear and hysteria. He let me out faster that way. Quiet meant reflection to him. I was thinking on my sins, and I was learning better.

In reality, it wasn't going to work this time, because I couldn't get that demon out of my head. Or, not a demon. A vampire. It was ridiculous to consider, but if Brother's reaction was any indication, Harlock was a true vampire. If it hadn't been sacrilegious, I would have prayed to see him again.

I slept on and off for countless hours. It felt like an eternity, but no time appeared to have passed at all. There was only darkness and silence until the top of the crate flew open with a splintering crash. I didn't care about anything else at that moment. My joints popped and ached sweetly as I jumped up to hug Brother. He never approved of my shows of affection, but I needed it. I was a shaking mess. "I'm so sorry," I said into his shoulder. "It won't happen again."

Then, for the first time since before the accident, I felt him hug me in return. His arms circled my back, and I leaned completely against him. He was warm like a sunbeam through one of the church windows, and it made the darkness seem like nothing again.

"You're right," said a graveled, angered voice that did not belong to my brother. "It won't happen again." His arms tightened at my back. "If I'd known that bastard would do this to you, I wouldn't have left you with him." He leaned his face down into my hair, his breath brushing my scalp. "I'll take you with me."

My mind caught up late. Harlock, I finally understood. The demon had been the one to let me out. I jumped back and tore out of his grasp, but his hand caught my arm, and his eye caught mine.

"Yama," he said. "Look at me." Nothing else was visible. It was all darkness except the single golden circle of his iris. It was beautiful, even as it sank to a deep red. I felt like I was falling into it, just like when he'd bitten me. There was a promise of comfort if I simply let go. And at that point, I saw no reason not to.

My comfort vanished the instant Harlock jumped away from me. Brother appeared in his place, illuminated by the light streaming in from the open cellar door. His face was screwed up in rage, another stake in his hand. It was strange to see that anger directed at someone else. He'd always reserved it for me, while others saw only his mask of calm.

I was the one he hated, because of my mistakes, because of Nami. It shouldn't have made me happy to know that he hated someone besides me, but it was nice not to feel so alone.

"It's time you were put down for good," he spat at the vampire. Harlock stood a few feet away with a mask of calm as though his life wasn't being threatened. "You've lived long enough."

"Perhaps," Harlock said. "But I can't allow you to continue treating your brother the way you do. I don't believe you deserve the right to kill me. You're too low."

Ezra's rage mounted, but as he started forward to attack, I found myself jumping out of the crate. My attack was in no way graceful. I simply grabbed him around the middle and dragged him down with me. We landed on the dirt floor in a heap, my head on his chest, but he was quick to start pushing me off. "Don't hurt him!" I begged with as tight of a hold as I could manage. I owed Harlock for letting me out. He couldn't die.

"What is wrong with you?" Brother screeched. "Destroying everything you touch! You must have been _born_ a demon."

His words felt like claws digging away at my chest. I loved my brother. He was all I had, and I'd apologized for my mistake until my voice was so raw I couldn't speak anymore. Nami was gone, but we still had each other. I wished he could have accepted that much.

Harlock yelled something. I wasn't paying attention to him. Then a mind-numbing pain smashed through my spine. I felt my eyes go wide, but I couldn't see. There was only the pain in my back. Something was there, jammed into my body like a rod stuck between cogs. My hands tightened into fists at Ezra's back. "Broth…brother," I whimpered.

He pushed me away like I was nothing. I took him in as I lay on my side, his eyes filled with loathing toward me. I felt myself crying, but not from the pain that was spreading like fire through my back.

Before Ezra could stand, Harlock's arms scooped me up. He ran up the stairs and out of the cellar to leave my brother behind. "I can't believe him," Harlock said distantly. "Dear God, I can't believe this."

The pain began fading, like God finally decided to show me mercy. I became a ragdoll in Harlock's arms by the time we made it out into the forest. The moon hung above the trees, full and beautiful. I almost imagined I could reach up and touch it. "Hang on just a bit longer, Yama," Harlock said. "I won't let you die."

Die? Was I dying? It was cold, just like the cellar, but I was tired enough to sleep through the cold. Sleeping would protect me from the horrors of the cellar. Sleep was always safe.

"Yama! Look at me!" Harlock commanded from somewhere far away.

When I opened my eyes, I found that golden ring again, beautiful and shining just like the moon. His lip was bleeding from a deep gash. "Yama." The ring faded red once more. "You just have to swallow a drop. I'll protect you, so there's no reason to worry."

Of course. I would do whatever he wanted, so I would never worry. My eyes felt heavier than they ever had before, but I kept them open for him as he took hold of my chin and kissed me.

This demon had ruined my life, taken me from my home and was now taking a kiss all without asking. But for some reason, I didn't mind. I swallowed like he'd told me to, and then I felt a second heart beating in my chest. Unlike mine, it was strong in its rhythm, alive. It was his heart, beating for me.

"Yama," I heard him breathe. "I always ask first, because I wasn't given a choice, but you have to understand that I couldn't let you die. You can hate me all you want later, but I couldn't let him kill you like that. You're no longer his. You're mine now, and I'll take care of you."

I fell away into sleep, or maybe death. It was hard to say.

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><p><strong>"Why was Yama locked in a crate?" someone asks. "That's really weird." <strong>

**Yeah, well my girlfriend has this thing for scared sad boys in crates. Go ask her.**


	2. Bella Gerant Alii

**I should preface this chapter by saying I have very strange vamp headcanons. I mostly like to follow the traditional rules, but I'm one of those terrible people that adds in some weird ideas. Also, I have weird pairings, but that's just a given.**

**Hope everything's all good.**

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><p>Centuries had passed since the last time I'd dealt with a newblood, and I'd forgotten some of the basics in that time. I knew there were specific animal bloods they preferred. I just couldn't recall which ones, so I had a small variety of livestock tied up behind the house. I'd gathered them while he was asleep in one of the windowless rooms.<p>

He was exactly how I'd left him when I returned. Along with his waxy complexion, he didn't move in his sleep. All outward appearance said he was dead, and he would stay that way until he began feeding. In a sense, he had died. He'd died a human death, and when he woke, he would be a newborn vampire. He would act like a newborn too, though some said it was closer to compare them to animals. Newbloods took time to remember themselves as individuals, and in that time their instincts drove them.

Yama awoke while I was reading by candlelight. I didn't truly need the light, but I used it out of habit. That was when he reminded me of another thing about newbloods. He smashed his hands over his eyes, whimpering like a dog. "Oh, I'm sorry," I said before blowing the candle out. "I forgot your eyes were so sensitive. Don't worry. It will ease."

There was little point in talking to him. He didn't understand any of it, but newbloods did take note of their sire's tone. He relaxed as his hands slipped from his face. Then his eyes locked on me, bright with interest. They still held that childish innocence even now. Standing, I walked to his side and traced two fingers down the line of his jaw. He didn't respond, simply continued staring up at me.

I did remember an easy way to fix that. Bringing my hand up to my mouth, I flipped my palm up to bite through the soft patch of skin below my pinky. Yama's eyes widened, and he scrambled to sit up. "Now-now," I smiled as I began lowering my hand. "Behave."

Patience was not a virtue of newbloods. He reached up and yanked my hand down to his mouth, new fangs making their first mark. He drank differently from my last newblood. He didn't rush things. There was no pain. It seemed like he was savoring it, his eyes lidded as he drained me.

He only needed something to give him a little strength, so I pulled away before he could take too much. Newbloods never approved of having a meal taken before they finished, so it usually required a quick scolding to make them let go. But Yama released me with a gentle sigh. Even when I thought he was going to bite me again, he only leaned forward to lick the wound clean of escaping blood. "Good boy," I praised. In a way, I was treating him like a dog, but I knew he appreciated the sound of my voice. Given the way he acted, it was difficult not to imagine him as a sort of pet. I ran my hand through his hair, which awarded me with a contented hum as he leaned into my touch. "You must be starving," I said. "Let's get you a proper meal."

As soon as I turned to leave, he hopped out of bed and trailed after me like a duckling. On one hand, it was cute and smart. Sticking close to his sire meant he was less likely to wander into the sun or be attacked by another vampire. It also meant I couldn't go kill his brother. That was a problem.

While he terrorized the cows I'd stolen, I tried to remember if anyone nearby owed me a favor. Surely one of them did, but I'd lost track after so many years. All I needed to do was find one of my friends willing to watch over a well behaved newblood for a few hours.

As it turned out, that was harder than I'd thought.

"I dunno, Harlock," Tochiro said after hearing me out. "Shouldn't you be the one looking after him?"

Emeraldas held her hand up before I could finish. "I don't babysit."

"Sorry, Captain," Kei said with genuine empathy. "I don't feel comfortable taking care of a newbie."

I was down to my last resort, and though I didn't like owing him any favors, he was a sucker for children. Even if Yama wasn't a child, he had taken to acting like one as a newblood. Just like with my other friends, he hid behind me as we approached the oldest vampire in the city. Age meant power, and any vampires running amok were put on a trial run by him.

I met him in a bar that was only open to us at night. His long legs hung down from a barstool in the smoothest pair of slacks I'd ever seen. He was taller than me, built better too. He was also really, really good in bed on the rare occasions I could get him there.

His russet eyes were sharp and calculating as they flicked to me, but they softened when he noticed Yama peering out from behind my arm. "Been a long time since you had a newblood," he murmured behind the ridge of his glass.

I didn't appreciate the remark, so I stayed quiet until he turned to properly face me. "I need to call in a favor," I said, while Yama began pawing at my hand. I lowered my voice but kept my tone firm. "Not now. You just ate."

"Come on, Harlock," my old friend said with a gentle smile. "You know newbloods are always hungry. What's the little one's name?"

He was already ignoring my request, meaning it would take some coercion to get him back on topic. "Yama," I said. "He was Ezra's younger brother."

His smile vanished, and he stood. "Was," he echoed, though it wasn't a question. He stepped toward me, or rather, toward Yama, but Yama's instincts knew better than to let a powerful vampire close. He shrank back behind me, hands fisted in the back of my shirt. "Ah, he's a shy one. Well, there's no need to be frightened, little one. My name is Warrius Zero. I won't harm you."

Yama refused to budge, refused to even acknowledge the hand Zero offered him, but Zero wasn't put off. He retracted his hand only to tear his palm open with his teeth. Being the glutton that he was, Yama's eye reappeared from around my arm, wide with interest. "Like I said," I cut in, "I need a favor. I need for you to watch over him for me. Should only be for a few hours." Reaching back, I pried his hands from my shirt. It was all the prompting he needed to latch his greedy fangs into Zero's hand instead.

"Should?" Zero frowned. "What are you up to?" He watched Yama feed with adoration clear in his eyes. With his free hand, he ran his fingers through Yama's hair until the newblood was purring for him.

"I need to kill his brother. He's not safe as long as Ezra's alive."

A dark haze covered Zero's expression. It was clear I'd struck a nerve. "None of us are safe as long as that hunter breeding ground is up and running, but we can't just storm in and kill them. Ezra and I have a deal. The fact that you did this to his brother is reason enough for him to stop upholding his end. We're lucky those priests haven't started attacking. If you kill him, what little peace with them we have left will fall apart. We don't need to kill humans unless our lives or the lives of innocents are immediately in harm's way."

It looked like that was a "no" then. "He attacked me without cause, and you're taking his side," I said. "He locked his brother in a crate in a cellar without light or water. Hell, he tried to kill his brother, and you're taking his side." I grabbed Yama's arm and tugged him back. With a small cry of disappointment, he released his catch and returned to my side.

Zero's eyes were heavy with disapproval at the loss of the leech. He had a bad habit of wanting to steal my newbloods. "I'm not saying he's a good person, but killing him means war. You have your prize in return for him attacking you." He nodded to Yama. "If you're worried for your newblood's safety, then protect him, or let me protect him. But if you attempt to attack the priests, you need to understand that I will have to stand between you and them."

My lip was twitching its way toward a snarl. I didn't realize how far he'd sold himself out to those bastards. "Fine," I snapped. "I won't kill him, but I'm not going to stay in this city any longer."

"Traveling with a newblood is asking for trouble," he warned. "And what about your boy? He's not going to stand for being uprooted."

Now my eye was twitching too. Zero had made the city a supposed haven, so it was filled with vampires, including all my friends and most of my family. It would all fall apart eventually, of course. One side would crack under the pressure, and I didn't want to be around when it happened. I didn't want to see another war. I didn't want Zero to see one either, and he was doing everything in his power to prevent it, but it was only a matter of time before it fell apart.

I couldn't allow myself to be the final straw. I had to get out before I snapped, but leaving everyone wasn't an option either. "I'm going to drink," I grumbled. "Watch him for me." Yama gave another squeak as I shoved him straight into Zero's chest.

Zero raised a brow. "You know this is a bar."

"I don't want any drinks from your group. Probably watered down anyway." I felt Yama start after me as I headed for the door, but Zero must have grabbed a hold of him.

Confusion and fear filled Yama's voice as he cried out at my back. "I'll come to pick you up in a few hours," I called over my shoulder. It did nothing to ease his terror. Even when I was in the doorway, I could feel his heartbeat trilling.

Since Zero had a tight grip on one arm, Yama held the other out toward me, grabbing at air. "Ha-!" he begged in his usual babyish sounds. It was only when I exited that I heard anything different, and by then I was already out. The door was closing. I wasn't going to turn back.

"Har…lock!"

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><p>The air in the bar had tensed the moment Harlock arrived, with every patron keeping one ear on our conversation. Even after he left, they waited until I calmed with a sigh before the tension could dissipate. Yama was still frantic, understandably so. Rule one of being a sire was to never leave your newblood.<p>

As Yama's breathing began to pick up, his eyes darted around the room like an animal in a trap. Newbloods hated strangers more than they hated being alone. "Come along," I said as soothingly as I could. Hooking an arm around his shoulders, I started dragging him toward the back meeting rooms.

"Sir," Marina said before I could make it out. "Shouldn't we send someone to tail Harlock?" As my second in command, she was always jumping on the details, a stickler for the rules to the end.

Yama cowered against me, since apparently Marina being five feet away was too close for him. "No," I said, shaking my head. "If Harlock says he's going to do something, he'll do it. He's just going to get a drink. You can send someone to shadow him if you'd like, but it'll be under your order. I don't need him more pissed at me than he already is."

"Alright." Her eyes narrowed in on Yama. "But don't go getting too attached to that newblood."

I couldn't help but flinch. It wasn't my fault they were so cute, adorable like little kids. Yama had buried his face in my side as he trembled. It seemed all it took to get him to like me was a little blood, though usually newbloods were pickier than that. Harlock had found himself a gentle little one. I wondered if that was because of his upbringing in the church.

The back room held about two dozen padded sitting chairs, along with a massive oak table for meetings. I led Yama to one chair and planned to seat myself in the one next to it, but he didn't like the idea. As soon as I sat down, he plopped down at my feet and pawed at my hand. "Oh, I should have sent someone to get you a proper meal," I sighed. Hooking my pinkies in my mouth, I gave a whistle.

"Need somethin'?" The bartender yelled. Yama flinched back from the voice.

"If you could get some blood for the little one, I'd be much obliged."

"Sure thing, boss."

I wasn't fond of them referring to me as "boss." Even if I technically was, I preferred my name. Reaching down, I ruffled Yama's hair. "You can call me Warrius, little one, once your voice comes back anyway. How long have you been a newblood? A few days? A week? You should be mostly back by the end of week two." He nudged his nose up toward my hand, but I pulled it away. "Don't worry. We've got something much better than vamp blood."

It was clear he couldn't understand me from the pout that settled on his face. It only left when the door opened, and he scrambled to hide behind my chair. "Hey, War," Monono greeted with his usual bright smile. "You wanted some blood?" There were two glasses in his hands, thick with the red liquid.

Tetsuro appeared behind him sipping another glass. "Having your blood brought to you? That's awful lazy, Mr. Zero."

To me, the two had always looked similar. Monono's hair was a shade lighter and actually brushed, but they were both brunets with cuts down to their chins. Monono looked around fourteen, and his face was round, soft in a way. Tetsuro appeared seventeen, with a childish but squarer jaw. He was also a few inches taller, though whether he would remain that way was to be seen.

Monono was a half-vampire, born from a human woman. He could age, and he was working on it, but it was a slow process. He had to abstain from blood, though not for too long at any given time since he still needed it to survive. He swore up and down that he'd eventually catch up to his boyfriend, even if he was technically the elder.

"The blood's not for me," I said. "It's for the newblood cowering behind my chair. When did you two get here?"

"Like a minute ago," Tetsuro shrugged.

Monono's attention was solely on trying to see our new addition. He stood on his tip-toes and craned his neck. "I didn't know you got a newblood, War."

"Not mine, unfortunately." I stood and took one of the glasses. This was going to be messy. "He's your father's. Surprised you didn't know about him."

Monono's face screwed up in what I could only place as curiosity. "Always said he'd never get another one… But I haven't really seen him for the past few weeks."

"He's been with me," Tetsuro cut in, resting his chin against Monono's shoulder. "I got us some wine."

"You know you can get that here without any trouble?" Why did everyone forget this was a bar?

Tetsuro shrugged. "Not as fun that way."

Monono had taken interest in Yama crawling out from behind the chair. Holding the cup out, I used it as bait to pull him into view. His pupils shrank to pinpricks, focused only on the heated scent of blood. "Have you had human blood before?" I asked as though he could answer. Harlock usually only drank from humans, but this looked like Yama's first contact.

"He looks like…" Monono trailed off, worrying his lip. "Why did Dad turn him?"

Yama put his hands around the glass and sank his teeth over the rim. Then he stood, dumbfounded until I tipped the glass back for him. "Harlock said he was Ezra's brother, and Ezra tried to kill him. I didn't ask for specifics, so I don't know much more than that. I would assume it's a similar case to last time."

I had to hold the glass so tightly that it might have broken from more force, as Yama attempted to pull it completely down. "You're going to spill it all over yourself," I sighed. In his irritation, he began blowing bubbles in the blood.

"Didn't realize newbloods were so weird," Tetsuro laughed. "Was I like that?"

"Yes," Monono said without missing a beat. "This is just the feral stage. Once you grow out of it, you don't remember it, but your emotions from it can carry over. So if you're mean to him, he'll remember that he doesn't like you."

"He's actually one of the better behaved newbloods I've been around." I eyed Tetsuro with a smile. "You bit me every chance you got, Harlock too. Drove him nuts."

"Not to mention all the times you used me for food," Monono grumbled. "Had to hit you to pry you off a couple times."

While my eyes were off him, Yama managed to get some of the blood up his nose. A violent sneeze echoed in the cup, and though I yanked it away immediately, he managed to cover his entire face with a spray of blood.

Tetsuro snorted, and Monono giggled while Yama reached up and smeared it into an even worse mess. "Newbloods are cute, but they are a handful," I sighed.

"Why are you looking after him anyway?" Tetsuro asked as I pulled out a handkerchief. "I thought it was against some law for sires to leave their newbloods."

"It is unless you leave them in the care of an equally ranked vamp, but it's still not advised." I licked the cloth and rubbed it against Yama's cheek, which he was none too happy about. "It appears Harlock can't handle the pressure of the city's system anymore. You know how he hates being stuck in one place, actually following the rules." It was a challenge not to roll my eyes. "He wants to leave."

Silence gripped like a strangling hold and we waited for Monono's response, but it seemed one wasn't coming. His eyes were heavy, his brows drawn.

"We can go with him if you want," Tetsuro whispered as he took hold of Monono's hand and entwined their fingers.

Monono swallowed before taking a slow breath. "I wanted to stay here. Everyone else is here. If we leave, we'll be on our own again, but if he disappears, I may not be able to find him again."

"Others will follow him," I said. "They always have, and they always will. You won't be alone. He'll take all the misfits with him. Where, I can't imagine. Maybe he'll go back to the sea. If you decide to stay, you'll always have a place here, but if you go, I can promise you won't be the only ones."

Monono nodded slowly. I knew that Harlock had promised they would settle down for a long time, but it had only been a few decades. Yama rubbed at his eyes and yawned, blissfully ignorant to everything. As though to join him in that state, Monono abandoned the conversation. "What did you say his name was?"

I couldn't fault him for that. "It's Yama."

"Yama," he repeated with a gentle smile. "Looks like you're part of our family now. I hope everything goes well for you when you wake up."

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><p><strong>I ship Tetsuro and Monono to a startling degree. I apologize.<strong>


	3. Causa Mortis

**Gosh Yama is such a drama queen in this chapter. I apologize. He'll get better.**

**I hope you like it okay.**

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><p>My hand hurt. It stung like the time boiling water had splashed on me in the kitchens. That had been my fault, but this I didn't remember. I didn't remember falling asleep on a bed stuffed with feathers either. My bed was stuffed with hay.<p>

I opened my eyes to a room that wasn't mine. No windows let in light, but I could see every detail in the fuzzy gray of darkness. Despite the unfamiliarity, I didn't feel as frightened as I thought I should have. I was more concerned with the dizziness overtaking my senses. My world rocked back and forth even as I lay still on the bed. Still, I wasn't afraid. Something about the blankets smelled comforting, safe.

But it was all lies. It had to be. I didn't remember any of it.

My hand burned from the scald as I dragged the blankets back and slipped my feet to the floor. My shoes were gone, along with my clothes. A fresh set sat on the desk across the room, though I wasn't sure if they were supposed to be mine or not. I'd never seen them before.

The floor, made of sanded wood, creaked and swayed under my feet. I crept across each board on my toes to make as little sound as possible. Whoever was around, I didn't want them coming in on me, especially not while I was naked.

The clothes, nicer than my usual wardrobe, fit me well. The shirt was a thin white fabric, while the coat was a thicker green. How I could see the colors in the dark, I wasn't sure. They were little more than different shades of gray, but I could tell as though the room was well lit.

Along with the dizziness rocking the floor, my head felt fuzzy. Time had passed, maybe a few weeks, but I couldn't remember any of it clearly. Blurs of colors, smells and textures came to mind, all vague fragments that offered me nothing.

I wanted to crawl back onto the bed, back to that strange comfort. Surely that was a trap. If I couldn't even identify the room, it couldn't possibly be the safe place part of me thought it was. I needed to get out.

Muttering a prayer under my breath, I rushed to the door and pushed it open. A hallway stretched out in front of me, just as quiet and dark as the room. Not a soul stood visible, but I could hear fragments of conversations from the doors on each side of the hall. None of the voices were familiar, so I breathed another prayer and ran.

The floorboards creaked whether I ran flatfooted or on my toes, so I sprinted without care. At the end of the hall was one set of stairs leading up and one leading down. If the darkness was any sign, I was below ground. I chose to go up and burst through the door at the top.

Outside air rewarded me, thick with saltiness in taste and smell. Stars peppered the sky in a brilliant array, and a moon almost as bright as the sun hung low to the horizon. The floor here was also made of wood, and a few men lounged against it.

I recognized none of them, and not to pre-judge, but they didn't look like the good Christian sort I was used to. Surprise and interest filled their eyes as they turned to notice me. Belatedly, I realized I should have slipped out the door as quietly as possible. Now they were all looking at me. All I could think to do was run.

I dashed to the left in hopes of escape. Instead I found railing in front of an endless expanse of black water. The railing caught me by my gut, and I hung there with my weight against it. The constant rocking wasn't dizziness. It was the waves tilting the ship. I was on a ship for the first time in my life, out on the ocean.

"You okay, Yama?" a squeaky voice called from behind me. "Need something to eat?"

What I needed was an escape. I didn't belong on a ship. I hadn't agreed to board one. These people were all strangers, and Brother was nowhere to be found. But Brother…

I sank to my knees, only held upright by the wooden railing. Brother had stabbed me. It was the first solid memory I could grasp, and everything before it swam into view.

I felt a presence kneel next to me and take careful hold of my injured hand. The saltiness of the air gave way to that calming scent, smoky and warm like burnt paper. I turned like a string was pulling me, and there was that golden ring of light. Just as beautiful and damning as I remembered. I hated it. I wanted to reach out and take it.

"You're awake." The voice matched that calming feeling. Like fresh ash, it was dark and smooth, but a hint of regret touched his tone.

"Well you didn't think he was going to be feral forever, did you?" the squeaky voice returned. It reminded me of crows cawing back and forth in an endless chatter.

"I was hoping to be there when he woke," Harlock said. His eye flicked over my hand, still red and raw from the burn. "He needs some blood."

Despite the overwhelming comfort of being next to him, I knew this whole situation was wrong. Harlock was the cause of all my troubles. Harlock was the reason Brother attacked me. This lying demon was acting like nothing was wrong, when everything was wrong, and he had to pay for it.

I lunged for his eye as though to claw it out of his face. If I took out that other eye, he couldn't cast these spells on me. I would see the truth. But he was faster than me, grabbing my wrist before I could touch him. "Yama?" It was a question mixed with a warning.

I jerked against his grasp, but both my hands were locked in his. "Let me go," I hissed. "Get away from me."

His brow furrowed as his eye examined me with a sharpness that rivaled Brother's gaze. "You were such a well behaved feral. I thought it would carry over."

"Aw, he's just grumpy because he's hungry," the crow squawked. I turned to glare at him, only to find him shorter than I'd expected. He was at eye level with me on my knees, an odd man with thick spectacles. He grinned from ear to ear from beneath a wide-brimmed hat. Something about him was familiar.

"I'm not hungry. Just take me home," I snapped.

"I don't think you want to go anywhere near a church for the next few hundred years," the crow laughed.

"Face the truth, Yama," Harlock said. "You're one of us, so you're better off staying with us."

It disgusted me how calmly he said that, like it was absolute fact. My heart raced, beating against my bones, and an inhuman snarl tore from my throat. "I am not one of you."

My fire fizzled out as Harlock's thumb ground into the back of my scalded hand. "On the way here, you stuck your hand out of your crate, because you didn't like the enclosed space. Remember?"

I hissed against the pain, throbbing through my hand along with every pulse of my heart. I could feel his heartbeat too, through his hand and all the way to his chest. The two were in sync in their endless drumming. It made me wish I could stop mine just for a second to throw the rhythm off.

"Your hand burned in the sun," he continued. "You need some blood so it will heal."

He let me tear my hands away. I cradled them to my chest, though the moment he let his guard down, that eye was mine. I'd never wanted to bring such harm to someone before. Surely it was alright if it was against a demon. God would forgive me for that. I just wasn't sure he would forgive me for the fangs I cautiously explored with my tongue. They could have easily punctured the tissue if I'd let them. "I don't want any blood," I murmured. "I'm going to get off the next time we make port."

"No."

The word felt like a slap to the face. I blinked, waiting for an explanation. He stared back with that lazy lack of expression. "You'll die," he said finally. "You're staying, and you're going to drink."

"No!" I shot back, but my attempt did not carry the same weight.

"Yama, we're going to the galley." The ring of gold faded red, and my body froze against me. The hand he offered me was a joke. I didn't have a choice but to place mine into it. My movements were all automatic, exactly what he wanted. I stood just as he did, but I didn't want to.

This wasn't right. I had to have some free will left. Every man made his own choices. That was what made us men to begin with. So what if he had made me like him physically? I hadn't agreed to this life, and I didn't have to listen to him.

He started away from me, expecting me to follow. The short man spoke up. "You used to be the one always encouraging us to let newbloods starve themselves if they wanted to. You've gone all soft with this one."

Harlock frowned down at him. "Do you really want another one losing it and going on a rampage? Because I like my arms better when they're attached to me."

I could have followed him, but I didn't have to. Instead, I took a step back. There was nowhere to run in the middle of an ocean. But if I couldn't escape him alive, I'd die instead. I glanced him turning back just as I slipped over the railing, the surprise on his face the same as the time I'd hit him.

The water felt like an icy wall. The salt ate away at my hand, but I closed my eyes and waited. Surely it didn't take long to drown.

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><p>It was almost funny the way Harlock just stared at the spot where Yama had been. Sure, it wasn't often someone disobeyed an order from him, but it looked like he was so shocked he was just going to let the kid drown. I would have gone in after him, but swimming wasn't a specialty of mine.<p>

"Kei!" I yelled up the mast.

She leaned against the rail of the crow's nest, blonde hair tousled from the drafts. "I don't see him," she called back. "Is he really not coming back up? What an idiot."

"You want to get him?" I asked.

"Not really." But she threw her legs over the rail. Her fall ended with a chorus of protests from angry floorboards crackling under the strain. After a small sprint across the deck, she dove off the side of the ship.

"I can't believe he broke my hypnosis," Harlock finally said.

"Yeah, that was pretty impressive." I nodded. "Don't even think Tadashi's ever managed it, has he?"

Harlock didn't bother answering. He was too busy staring at the water. The quiet distress on his face didn't leave until Kei broke through the inky surface with a gasp. "I'm not giving him mouth-to-mouth if he's not breathing," she yelled. Yama's arm was draped across her shoulders, his head down. Even if his lungs were full of water, he couldn't die from it. That must have been his plan, but unfortunately for him, we were hardier than that.

"Think he's going to try to stake himself next?" I asked as the men threw a line down to Kei.

Harlock breathed a sigh. "I hope not. I'd hate to see him mess up and bleed everywhere. I think he'll come around after we talk to him. Hypnosis is out for sure."

He carried the kid to the galley, while I tagged along. The galley was one of the few rooms on the ship that was always well lit, oil lanterns lining the walls. It had to be for our cook, the only half-breed of our bunch. His night vision wasn't to the same level as ours, and his work needed to be precise in some cases. Calling him a "cook" was a loose definition when he only sometimes cooked for himself. For the rest of us, he drained blood from whatever we'd caught.

Harlock tossed Yama from over his shoulder down onto a table. It was yet another bad call.

"Do not put bodies on my table!" Tadashi screeched as he emerged from the back brandishing a bloodied knife. Before Harlock could react, the knife came down a hair away from Yama's face. "Bodies go in the back!"

"It's Yama," Harlock attempted.

Tadashi wasn't fazed. "He is a body, and he is on my table. Put him on the floor if you have to." It wasn't until Harlock pulled the kid off the table and set him across a few chairs that Tadashi bothered to think about the situation. "Why's he all wet?" he frowned. "He got water all over my table."

"He took a little swim," I said.

I expected more questions to follow up, but Tadashi shrugged before heading back toward the kitchen. "I'll get you some blood," he called back. "Still can't believe you let him stick his hand in the sun. And now you let him fall in the ocean. You're really having trouble with this one, dad."

It was hard to keep a straight face as Harlock glared at his son's back. Instead of scolding his kid, he set to work bringing Yama back to life. He breathed and pumped the newblood's heart for a few rounds. With a guttural hacking, Yama was up, coughing a gallon of water out of his lungs and onto the floor. "You'd better clean that up," Tadashi yelled from the kitchen.

Yama came to a slow realization. It was almost heartbreaking to watch the crushing disappointment sink into his features. "Don't be too sad," I said. "Being alive is way better than being dead." You would have thought otherwise judging from his expression.

"Now," Harlock began in that gentle tone reserved for children. "We're going to go over the basics for you so you don't have to go through that again. First, drowning won't completely kill you."

"You need fire, a stake, the sun, or holy water for that," I said.

"Not eating will also not kill you unless you absolutely cannot reach blood. If you starve yourself, you'll turn into a blood-crazed monster with no control over yourself. Don't do that."

I wasn't even sure Yama was listening. He stared at the hands in his lap without a word. "And blood is great," Tadashi added as he returned with three glasses full of the stuff. "But you can't eat most foods anymore. It'll make you sick." As the glasses plopped down on the table, Yama's attention snapped to them. The conflict flashing behind his eyes was plain to see. Harlock and I both took a glass to sip and waited for him to give in.

"You've been like us for a few weeks already," Tadashi said. "No point in worrying about drinking blood now. You've already had a ton. Besides, if you don't drink it, it'll go to waste."

Either that was all it took, or Yama lost the battle with his composure. He downed the drink like a shot. The drop that escaped to his cheek was quickly caught by his tongue. The skin of his hand reformed to pristine condition, not a scratch on it. Once he smashed the glass back to the table, he turned to glare at us. "So if I've been with you for weeks, why don't I remember any of it?"

Harlock went over the process of being feral, and Tadashi and I reintroduced ourselves.

"Tochiro Oyama," I said with a grin. He allowed me to shake his hand without complaint. It was actually the closest I'd been to him. He was always hiding behing Harlock as a feral.

"And I'm Tadashi Monono," he greeted. "I like you. You haven't tried to bite me yet."

Yama didn't look happy with any of it, but he was taking it like a champ. Maybe all it took was one attempt at drowning, and he would behave from now on. "So where are we?" he demanded.

I couldn't help but butt in. "On our Arcadia!"

"We're in the Atlantic at the moment," Harlock said. "But yes, you're on our pirate ship Arcadia."

"So not only are we a bunch of demons, we're pirates too?" Yama asked dryly.

"Best bunch of pirates you've ever seen," Tadashi grinned. "Just wait 'til we get to board another ship. It'll be so much fun."

Yama didn't look like he was having fun. "Alright, one more question." His voice was low, his eyes dark. "Why was I naked when I woke up?"

Tadashi looked startled. Harlock's cheeks tinged pink. I just couldn't help but laugh.

"That wasn't my fault," Harlock huffed. "You stripped yourself. I wasn't going to argue with a feral about it."

Yama's eyes narrowed in on him. "Have you been sleeping with me?"

Harlock crossed his arms, grumbling through a sigh. "I had to. I'm your sire. That's how this works. Ferals almost always sleep near their sire, because it makes them feel safe and comfortable. But we didn't do anything, if that's what you're worried about."

Tadashi shuffled toward the back, muttering something about needing to work. Yama was blushing more than I realized a vampire could. "So," he mumbled, eyes locked on the floor. "Is that why you smell so good?"

"Do I?" Harlock smiled. "I'm glad you like it. You can continue sleeping with me if you want." I almost expected Yama to throw his glass at Harlock's face with the glare he was giving his sire. "Otherwise, you'll have to share a room with Tadashi and Tetsuro."

"You said we could have our own room!" Tadashi howled from the back.

"You have the only extra bed!" Harlock yelled back.

"You have a giant bed to yourself! He's your newblood! You deal with him!"

Harlock looked to Yama for help, but Yama was looking at Harlock the same way. "Guess you'll have to sleep on the floor, Harlock," I said. Yama slowly nodded in agreement.

"I'm not going to sleep on the floor in my own room," Harlock said. "This is my ship. He can sleep on the floor if he wants to."

"And who decided this was your ship?" Yama demanded. I was beginning to worry this spat wouldn't end well.

"I'm the captain." Harlock's tone was sharp with a warning. "This is my ship and my crew."

This was news to Yama, who stared in momentary surprise. That was another thing we'd forgotten to mention, but he'd figure it all out eventually. "Do I have to call you Captain?" he asked. It was an oddly naïve question, but Harlock did say this was a church boy.

Harlock calmed just as easily. "If you're a part of this crew, yes. If you're just a passenger, you don't have to. Your choice."

The galley door flew open to reveal Tetsuro with his eyes as wide as dinner plates. "Captain! We've got company!"

Harlock nodded before glancing to Yama. "Choose quickly."

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><p><strong>If Monono is Harlock's kid, does that make Yama his new mom? Gosh.<strong>


	4. Disiecta Membra

**"This is not a new chapter of Soldiers of Fate," my conscience reminds me. Shhh, conscience. I'm going to get to it, I promise. It just takes a lot more effort than these chapters, and I'm a lazy piece of garbage.**

**When I said not to expect much historical accuracy, that applies greatly to this chapter and the ships. Also, Leijiverse Mask Villain 2.0 is a favorite of mine. Just in case anyone doesn't recognize him, he's not an OC. **

**Anyway, here's more words. I hope they are acceptable.**

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><p>The captain practically shoved Yama my way as he stormed past. "Look after him during the fight," he ordered before heading to the deck. Tadashi threw me an apologetic glance as he rushed to follow. Just because I'd been the messenger, I was now stuck babysitting the newblood. How unfair.<p>

"He should be the one looking after you," I sighed. "He's kind of a worthless sire."

Yama stared down at me, dumbfounded. He might as well have been a kicked dog. "Who are you?" he asked at length.

Oh right, that explained it. I hadn't dealt with a newblood before him, but I remembered waking up for the first time surrounded by people who said they knew me, when I knew none of them. "Tetsuro Hoshino," I said. "I'm new to the crew too, so don't feel too bad."

"I'm not really..." He talked like there was something caught in his throat, eyes wandering like the topic of conversation. "How old are you?"

I offered a friendly smile, just like Tadashi gave me when I asked the same question. "A word of advice – don't ask anyone that. Just assume they're older than you." In my experiences, most of us didn't like to think too much about the split between our face and our real age. "Anyway, I'd rather see what's going on up top."

The men called quick orders back and forth above us, the boards creaking under their weight and muffling their words. Yama's eyes rolled up beneath pinched brows. "I don't want to get involved."

What a killjoy. This was the first real fight, and I wasn't going to see any of it at this rate. "Come on," I begged. "We don't have to help out. Let's just watch at least." Dragging him into the boarding party was my real goal. That was the only way I would get some fresh blood. Tadashi did a great job storing it and all, but it tasted lousy compared to taking from something with a heartbeat.

"Alright," he gave in despite the hesitation in his voice. Before he could change his mind, I grabbed him by the wrist to lead him back up top.

"Don't go jumping into the ocean again," I said. "The captain'll kill me if we lost you." And swimming wasn't a favorite hobby of mine.

He didn't bother answering but let me pull him up the stairs to the deck. It was a good thing I had a hold on him, because as soon as the door opened, he almost fell back down the stairs. I didn't blame him. The massive swarm of fire consuming the ship to our port side was enough to force my eyes shut. But that wasn't the worst of it. I could almost taste the thick, strangling stench of burning flesh, even from beneath the smoke.

"Bright, isn't it?" I heard Tadashi say, his tone dark. Forcing my eyes open to slits, I watched him stride up to us, a coil of rope slung over his shoulder. "We were a bit too late to save that one, but we'll get the bastards that did it."

"What do you mean?" Yama asked. I glanced back to find him shielding his nose with his arm. The brown of his irises burned gold like the captain's as they reflected the fire.

"Pirate attack," Tadashi spat. "If you want to call them that. This was a passenger vessel. I can guarantee they just took all the food and valuables and burned down the rest. But we're on their tail now. They won't get far."

That expression returned to Yama's face – stunned confusion. "Are they enemy pirates? I thought you were all friends."

Tadashi shook his head. "The captain has his own set of morals. We use black sails, but ours mean something different than most. We might be pirates, but we don't go around slaughtering the innocent. Those that do-" He flashed one of his dulled fangs in a grin. "-become our dinner."

I reached out and ruffled his hair just to rile him up. "It's funny when you call him captain."

He rolled his eyes before ducking out of reach. "If you're not going to be useful, just make sure to stay out of the way. We'll be coming up on them any minute."

Yama stared in quiet curiosity around the deck while I pulled him into what would hopefully be a safe corner. "Pirates with morals," he muttered. "That's the strangest contradiction I've ever heard. Vampire pirates even."

He could be entertaining if nothing else. "You could say most vampires have as decent of morals as most humans," I said. "At least in a good chunk of Europe, since Mr. Zero and the Captain are two of the oldest around. We call them oldbloods, like the opposite of you. Oldbloods tend to be in charge. Mr. Zero made most of the written rules, and he enforces them in a court system of sorts. The captain enforces his own version of the rules in a much quicker process. Technically illegal for us to kill just for food, you know."

He gave me another confused stare. I might have broken him. Maybe this was too much information all at once. When he finally opened his mouth, it wasn't any one of the responses I was expecting. "How old is Harlock?"

"Hell if I know," I shrugged. "What did I say about asking that?"

Kei dropped from the crow's nest in a sudden crash. "We're on them," she said.

The captain barked orders from up in his usual place at the wheel. "Ready the cannons. Take out their weapons before they can get within range."

"I was told the Arcadia's the best ship on the Atlantic," I said just because Yama didn't seem interested enough to ask. "I can't say for sure. I haven't seen many ships in action, but Tadashi was pretty insistent on it, so I'll take his word for it." It was fast at least, judging by how little time it took to catch up to the enemy. Their black sails were smaller than ours, along with the rest of their ship. It was a sleek little thing - gorgeous with smooth, dark wood and detailed accents. Too bad we had to sink it.

The captain spun the wheel with a harsh snap, sending us all leaning toward the port side. I stumbled into Yama, who was thankfully stable enough to keep us both on our feet. The men in charge of the sails yanked and rearranged the ropes so quickly we slipped into a perfect turn. "Fire!" the captain ordered.

The Arcadia shook with a vengeance as the cannon fire roared underfoot. The poor bastards didn't have time to prepare before we riddled them with holes. So much for that pretty ship. After the second round of cannon fire, they were scrambling to shoot us with muskets from the deck. But in the heavy night, they could only fire blind. This was our territory.

Besides, shot wounds healed with just a little blood.

The boarding group came next, with grappling hooks to swing over or planks to simply walk. Most of our group used flintlocks only to injure. As soon as they were close enough, the enemy was as good as food.

Yama looked nothing short of horrified, which would make my proposition difficult. "You want to go try a fresh meal?" I attempted.

He shook his head. If I didn't hurry, they would all be gone before I could get one. "Come on," I begged, trying to shove him that way. If I could just get him within range of the scent of blood, he would give in easy. "You'll love it."

The captain even strode across the planks to follow his men. There were few of us left on the Arcadia. "Come on!" I howled.

He was saved by the arrival of the other ship's captain. That was all the man could have been with the flowing navy coat and dual pistols ready in his hands. How he'd avoided the rest of our crew on the way up to the deck, I wasn't sure. He stood there, expressionless, and faced down the captain. The numerous bodies littering his deck didn't seem to faze him. But Harlock's expression twitched with a moment's distaste.

They started talking but were too far away for me to pick up on the conversation. "I want to hear this. Come on," I whispered as I tugged on Yama's sleeve. Despite the discomfort in his face, he crept to the ships' edge alongside me. It smelled much better from there, a taste of freshly spilled blood drifting over on the air.

The other captain's hair was like Harlock's, a deep brunet messed by the sea breeze. His face might have been like Harlock's too, but a sharp-edged mask covered his eyes. "Working with humans seems unlike you," Harlock said, one hand resting on his cutlass, the other on his pistol.

The other captain shrugged, a lazy smile easing onto his lips. "They're simple-minded and easy to replace." He was definitely an older vampire, maybe an oldblood. Something about that curl to his words was almost like the way Mr. Zero talked, but there was a dark edge to his tone.

"You know I can't let you leave here alive after what you did," Harlock said. He seemed as expressionless as ever.

"You say that like I'll let you kill me," the oldblood returned just as calmly.

It wasn't until then that I noticed Yama trembling, his fingers crushed into the railing. His focus wasn't on either captain but the bloodied bodies scattered across the deck. I caught the back of his jacket just as he lunged for one of the planks. "No, no-no!" I hissed. "Not right now! Those are already drained anyway."

There was no reasoning with him. He might as well have been feral again as he fought in an attempt at escape. His grip on the rail pulled him forward, while I pulled him back in a mad game of tug-of-war.

I heard a small, sharp laugh undoubtedly from the strange captain. "How cute."

"Pay attention, Gido," Harlock snapped. Clear anger leaked into his voice. The change was too sudden not to notice.

"Ah, so that one's yours, is he?" Gido purred.

"I want- want one. I need it," Yama said in a crazed trance as he clawed at the air in front of the dead.

Gido seemed more interested in Yama than Harlock now. I needed to get Yama away. I wasn't even sure why, but I knew he needed to be out of sight. Gido started to lift his hand, but Harlock charged. I'd never seen such clear anger on his face. A snarl twisted his lips as he slashed the cutlass up across Gido's chest. The swing was a mere breath away from tearing skin. Gido brought up a gun.

"Hey, Tetsuro, what are you doing?" I looked down to find Tadashi leaning out of one of the holes left by the cannons. The boards were splintered around him, but that didn't stop Yama from switching aims. Tadashi had the unfortunate luck to smell delicious. That didn't mean Yama was allowed to bite him.

I heard Harlock's cutlass clash with something, but I was too busy trying to rein in the newblood to watch the fight. "Tadashi!" I yelled. "I'm going to let him go, and you're going to have to move!"

Tadashi looked irritated, which would have been funny if I wasn't so worried about Yama tearing his throat out. "Fine," he called back dryly.

As soon as I let go, I jumped after him. Our clothes brushed the splintered edges of the boards.

His landing was rough, all the wind knocked out of him as he landed on the floorboards. Mine wasn't bad. I landed on him.

Tadashi frowned at me as I attempted to wrestle Yama down. "Sorry, there was this Gido guy, and he was weirding me out," I spluttered. Tadashi's expression changed for a flicker of an instant. Then he dashed upstairs to what I hoped was safety. With a sigh, I released Yama to go find himself a meal. "This is the absolute last time I'm babysitting you," I said to his back.

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><p>Tetsuro returned Yama to me wild-eyed and covered in blood. I had hoped to be there to keep things clean the first time he fed from a human. Instead I had Tadashi heat up some water for me, and I set to work cleaning my newblood off with a wet rag. He calmed down in the process, his eyelids easing as though he might fall asleep any moment.<p>

"How was it?" I asked.

"Fuzzy," he murmured. "I don't remember." Before he could rub at his eyes, I moved to clean his hands of blood as well.

"You were hungry, so it's only natural. All you'd had for a few days was a glass to heal your hand. You'll improve at controlling your impulses." Thankfully we'd already intended to kill all the pirates. I doubted he'd left his prey with a drop of blood left. It was good he couldn't remember.

He sat on the bed, limp and calm for the first time all night. A single candle burned on the bedside table. His eyes wandered to it like a moth, shining a brilliant gold just like the first time I saw him. "What happened to that man?" he asked. "You knew him."

"He escaped." He always did. Slippery bastard.

Yama's brow furrowed, though he seemed to process the information with difficulty. "How? There was nowhere to go."

"He has a talent for holding his breath, I suppose." It was possible he'd learned to not need breath. I'd heard it was possible for oldbloods, though I'd never tried myself. "I need for you to promise me something," I said.

"Hm?"

"If you ever see him again, run. Don't look at him. Don't speak to him. Just run. His hypnotism is the most powerful I've ever seen. If he locks eyes with you, he will have control. Mine is nothing compared to his."

Yama nodded, though his mind seemed far off. His eyes still danced around the candle. "I think he was in pain," he whispered. "I thought it was supposed to feel good."

So that was it. He did remember some of what happened. Because he appeared docile enough, I chanced placing my hand to his cheek. He offered no resistance. "It depends on where you bite," I said. "The closer to the heart, the better it feels. That's why the neck is common. If you bite the hand or wrist, it can hurt, especially if you bite multiple times. Those men weren't worth worrying yourself over. The world is better off without them."

He breathed a sigh but offered me no more than that. Once his skin was clean, I brought him a fresh change of clothes. When he took them, his expression changed just enough to ease my worry. "Go stand somewhere else," he grumbled.

I walked around the bed to stand behind him, only to hear "Don't look," in a firm command. I wasn't sure what he was expecting to hide that I hadn't seen before, but I didn't argue.

"Ugh, it's everywhere," he groaned. I chanced a peek to see him cringing. Bloodstains stood out on his shoulders and likely his chest. His shirt was soaked through, so it was to be expected. "How is there so much?"

My eye fell on the scar, a jagged circle in the center of his back. I hadn't made any promises, so I walked over to trace the shape. He was already wearing pants, so I didn't believe it could be much of a problem.

His spine stiffened, and his muscles all tensed. "What are you doing?" he squeaked.

The raised skin was soft with newness. I followed the circle over and over for reasons I couldn't understand. "You're lucky. I thought even if you did survive the change you wouldn't be able to walk. But it healed for the most part."

"W-why did you…" He turned to face me, his expression firm but not angered. "Why did you change me?"

"It was my fault he did that to you, wouldn't you say?" His expression weakened against a rush of pain. It was that same agony I'd seen on his face when his brother pushed him away. "If you had been conscious enough, I would have offered you a choice, but that stake hit your heart. I had to take it out. I was losing you too quickly to ask. I've made that mistake before." I wanted to touch his face again, but I stayed my hand. "You looked so content with death. I haven't seen that in ages. As selfish as it was, I wanted to show you otherwise. I wanted to make you want to live."

"But how could anyone want to live like this?" His voice was raw with pain and exhaustion. The day's events had worn him down. He didn't have the energy to hate me.

"I asked my sire the same thing," I confessed. It was so long ago, but I could remember the look on his face as clear as day – that pleading helplessness. It was the only time I'd ever seen him wear such weakness visibly. "Give me some time. You've barely seen a portion of what the world has to offer. If you don't want to, you don't have to take part in anymore attacks, but at least stay to see more of the world."

He was so different than my last newblood, but they both wore their emotions on their sleeves. It was all too easy to push my feelings from one to another, as wrong as it was. His exhaustion was the only explanation for why he let me slip my arms around him. I pulled his chest to mine, that soft rhythm of his heart matching perfectly to mine. The sharp scent of blood covered him, but beneath it was a sweeter smell I'd come to associate with him, like a meadow filled with flowers.

I almost jumped when he buried his face in the crook of my neck. I thought he'd fallen asleep while standing. In reality, he wasn't far from it. "You smell good," he murmured. "You bastard."

I breathed a laugh. "You're still such a child."

I started to pull away, but he grumbled half-audibly. "Wait. Your heart."

I wasn't sure what he was getting at. "Yes. It beats the same as yours." Rather than a question, he made a small hum of confusion. "I can't say why," I answered. "It's like that for all sire and newblood pairs. As long as both of them beat, it will stay that way."

He may not have heard my response. I was holding him up almost completely at that point, while he dozed. As I settled him on the bed, he managed one final protest in a slurred whine. "I don't wanna sleep with you."

"Too bad," I said. "This is my room. Go find another if you want." Of course he couldn't move. He was asleep by the time I blew the candle out.

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><p><strong>It was a very long school day so I'm glad I got this done. Gays for me. Gays for you too. You earned it.<strong>


	5. Et in Arcadia Ego

**I have this idea that every time I upload one of these chapters, everyone just gives a collective sigh. Like, "God another one?"**

**Yep, another one. I used Google Translate on this one, so if the translation is wrong, I'm very sorry. I decided to chance it because it's so brief.**

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><p>The night was never silent, but the air was peaceful. Cool but not too cold, the breeze lapped waves against the ship. Boards creaked in rhythm as we rocked. Compared to the utter chaos of the night before, I couldn't help but enjoy the calm.<p>

Harlock was somewhere below deck, along with most everyone else. No one worked in any capacity as far as I could see. They lounged about the barrels and ropes without a care. The only two on deck I recognized were Tetsuro and Tadashi, leaning against the mast and each other as they stared at the stars. Tadashi looked half-asleep, but he always did.

I watched the stars too. Hanging against the rail, I could see them reflecting in the black waters. They wobbled and shifted with the movement of the uneven surface. I heard the door to the ship's interior open, but I didn't bother to look. The laziness of the crew infected me, leaving me just as useless as the rest.

"Not going to try jumping in again, are you?" the distinct voice of Tochiro joked as he neared me. I had a feeling I would never live that down.

"No," I sighed.

He hopped up to lean over the railing beside me, that constant smile warming his face. "A perfect night for sailing." He reached out his hand as though to grasp the ocean. "Always nice to come out and enjoy the sea of stars."

"Do you ever miss the blue sea?" I asked, though I'd never seen it myself. And I never would.

He adjusted his glasses with a soft hum. "I've always been a fan of the night."

If Tetsuro hadn't told me otherwise, I would have asked how long it had been since he saw the blue sea. It was hard not to be curious about how old an oldblood was. But Tetsuro hadn't told me I couldn't ask about other people.

"Do you know much about Harlock?" I attempted to sound as casual as possible.

Tochiro snorted. Then I found myself being laughed at again. "Hell, I know everything about Harlock," he said as his chuckles died down. "When you know someone for as long as I have, you learn more than you should."

"Did you two know each other before you were turned?"

He nodded without a hint of discomfort in his face. "We sailed on blue waters when we were brats. He turned first, and I followed suit, but our sires were different. You actually met my sire. Guess you wouldn't remember. It was only for a few minutes. She kicked Harlock out pretty fast." He laughed again. It seemed like an inside joke, because I didn't remember this woman. The lapse in memory was getting to be a pain.

I searched for another question to help me unravel the man called my sire, but nothing particular came to mind. "What should I know about Harlock?" I asked, so stilted it was clear I wasn't sure what I was doing.

"Ah, so that's your game here?" He didn't seem bothered by it. "I should tell you to ask him whatever questions you might have, but that's not exactly fair. Even if he does answer a question about himself, it tends to be wrapped in a riddle or so vague you get nothing from it. So I will say this – it's best not to go digging through the past. Stick to learning who he is now. Besides, if you went looking into that big mess, you'd just give yourself a headache." He smacked his hand between my shoulder blades before dropping from his perch. "Don't worry too much. We're all about having a good time here. None of your church rules apply." My disapproval leaked into my face. "Aw, loosen up," he said. "You've got a long time to learn how to enjoy life, but you might as well start now."

He disappeared back into the belly of the ship just as suddenly as he showed up. So much for getting answers out of him. It wasn't as though I meant to be nosy by asking about Harlock, but if we had to be stuck together, I wanted to understand something about him.

With normal people, asking about their lives and families was like small talk. But when I'd attempted to make conversation with Harlock earlier, he'd shot me down immediately. "That's not important," he'd said. It didn't feel fair when he knew so much about my life and I knew almost nothing about his.

So I turned to my second option. When I looked over, Tetsuro leaned his cheek against Tadashi's shoulder, grumbling. "I don't want to get up."

"If you don't go get something to eat, you'll end up using me as a snack," Tadashi huffed. "Just go get something real quick and come back."

I almost wanted to call him a child, an angry one at that. He had quite the temper, but I had to remember he was older than he looked. Treating him like a child was the quickest way to spike his temper.

"Isn't there still gross vomit water all over the floor?" Tetsuro asked. I took a sudden interest in the floorboards. I'd forgotten all about it.

"You think I didn't force the captain to clean that up already?" Tadashi scoffed. "It was the first thing he did when he woke up. Now quit making excuses and shoo."

Tetsuro slinked away with an over-dramatic sigh to get himself some food, so I grabbed my chance. An apology would work as a good excuse. As I approached, he smiled and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Come to ask me about the captain too?"

I couldn't attempt to brush the question off after it made my steps hesitate. He'd overheard my conversation with Tochiro, and it was all too obvious what I was after. Despite that, I plopped down next to him. He spoke before I said a word. "Tochiro is his best friend, has been for longer than I've known him, but I know some things about him."

"He's your dad, right?" I asked.

He nodded. "He was a vampire when it happened. You've probably noticed I'm not a full-blood. I've been told I smell nice."

He did. The scent was sweetly of fresh blood, though only faintly. That may have been the only thing saving both of us from me losing control.

"How does that work anyway? You being half?"

"Only works between a male vampire and a female human as far as I know. But no one realized it could happen until recently. Well, recently to us anyway. Otherwise, I figure he would have been more careful." Sadness weighted his words along with exhaustion. He scooted closer just to lean against my arm. I blamed it on the sleepiness. "His past's a bit of a mess, so he hardly likes to think about it, let alone talk about it. He likes you though. Easy to see that much."

"Guess that makes one of us," I said.

Tadashi breathed a gentle laugh. "I don't blame you, but he's not so bad. He's just inexperienced with newbloods."

"Wasn't Tetsuro his?"

"Hm?" He looked close to falling asleep against me. "Not exactly. Tetsuro's sire was killed, so the captain and I took him in. I did most of the work, really. You'd be able to tell if Tetsuro was his. Your heartbeats would sync."

"I thought you and him were brothers at first. You look so similar, and you seem close."

Amusement crept into his features, and he opened his eyes to look up at me. "You do understand he and I are in a relationship, right?"

"You must be very good friends," I nodded.

He placed his hand over his mouth, eyes shining with amusement. "God," he said from behind the muffling wall of his fingers. "I heard you were naïve, but you're just something else. We are very good friends, but when I say a relationship, I mean… What's the best way to put this without scaring you?" He patted my shoulder, nodding sagely. "We are a couple. We do things like a married pair might."

I stared at him. What he was saying registered in my head as words, lined up in a logical order. But it didn't make sense, so I only stared.

"We did the whole courting thing," he continued. "We're in a serious relationship?" When I still couldn't respond, he sighed. "You know that stuff the church says you're not allowed to do if you're the same sex? We do that."

My face was on fire. "H-how does that work?" I whispered.

He smiled as though I were a child asking something silly. "I was expecting something more like 'you're going to Hell', so you're taking this well, I guess. But to keep you from panicking, I'm not going to answer that question. Just do your best to think about us the same way you would a regular couple. I honestly thought you understood all this because of how you reacted to the captain sleeping with you."

"I just don't like people seeing me naked," I hissed.

Tetsuro reappeared with a glass of blood in his hand. Armed with my new knowledge, I found my face burning at the sight of him. In a silent question, he eyed me curiously as he sipped his drink. Tadashi patted my shoulder again. "If you want to know any more about how things work, go ask your sire."

I took it as an invitation to leave, nodding distantly as I stood. "Thank you," I murmured. He hadn't given me the answers I'd been looking for either. Instead I'd wound up with some I wasn't sure I wanted.

Most of the ship's layout was a mystery to me. Down the first flight of steps were the cabins, I assumed. I hadn't spent much time down the second, and everything below that was a complete mystery. The room I stayed in was easy to remember, situated at the end of the top hall. It felt like a safe place to return. If Harlock was there, I would try questioning him again. If he wasn't, it couldn't hurt to look through his things.

The door creaked as usual despite my attempt to slip in silently. No candlelight warmed the room, and he was nowhere to be seen. The desk became my first target.

Each heavy drawer provided disappointment after disappointment. They were sparsely filled with ink or parchment. My most interesting find was the two wine bottles in a drawer. His chest held nothing but clothes, some of them reserved for the rich. Next, I tried the mattress to no results.

"Really?" I grumbled. "Nothing?" Even my room back at the church held some personal belongings – books and a few pressed flower samples. Harlock's room was bone dry. There were still all those other rooms I hadn't seen. I would need to look into them later.

With another sigh, I kicked at a warped floorboard, the edge poking up from the rest. My heart nearly beat out of my chest as it flipped up. Dear God, I'd broken it.

I dropped to my knees to press it back into place, but the edge remained tilted rebelliously upward. It lifted as though it was on some sort of hinge instead of nailed to the floor on the opposite end as it appeared. The realization registered after I moved it up and down a few times.

Luck was on my side. I threw my hand down into the hidden space with reckless enthusiasm. There happened to be another two bottles of wine. I didn't think we could even drink wine, so I wasn't sure why, but alongside them was a leather-bound book.

Immediately, I began to flip through it. I'd hoped for a diary filled with dates, or anything filled with dates at all. Instead I found a charcoal sketchbook. The pieces were all portraits, startling in their realism. Most of the subjects were Harlock, though usually with two eyes and without his scar. But considering the order of the portraits, I could only guess he liked to draw himself that way. Tochiro popped up once, and a few different women, one with the same scar as Harlock. There was also a boy, distinctly Japanese and frowning. He was toward the back of the book and the one Harlock reached over to point at when I suddenly found him at my back.

"That one's a favorite of mine," he said. His tone was indistinct, no anger or amusement, but my breathing picked up. Only a demon could have opened that door and walked across the squeaking floorboards without a single sound. I didn't care what he said. He was a demon.

I forged a laugh as I turned to find his face just as plain as his voice. "They're nice," I stuttered. "Didn't know you could draw."

"I can't," he said as he pulled the book from my hands. "This belonged to a friend."

"Sure liked to draw you."

A smile twitched at his lips. "I'm only in it twice." He replaced the book along with the board. "Now don't let Tochiro know where I keep the good wine, or he will take all of it."

I waited for a reprimand, but he offered a hand to me instead. "We'll be arriving in Spain within the next three days. Tochiro suggested you learn how to use a gun before then. You won't be able to carry it out in the open, but I believe you'll be better off with one."

I wanted to take his hand about as much as I wanted to grab a snake. Any moment now he would hit me. His calm mask would fall away, but because of that, it was better to slip my hand into his grasp. He helped me to my feet, where I still had to look up to see his face. "Or you don't have to learn if you don't want to," he said. I realized he'd been waiting for an answer.

Under his gaze, I scratched at the back of my neck. I'd never been allowed to tell this to anyone before, but it didn't matter anymore. "Actually, I know how to use a gun," I mumbled.

Though I wasn't looking at his reaction, I could feel his stare. "Did you hunt?" he asked at length.

"No, I never got to that part. Brother said I still had to work up to that point. But then he stopped talking to me for the most part, so…" I chanced glancing up to find Harlock's eye narrowed in on me. He seemed to be searching me for an answer, though I'd already given him one.

"Come with me," he said as he turned. I followed without question.

* * *

><p>In some ways, it was frightening to see how natural Yama was with a gun. He could take one apart for cleaning and put it back together faster than most of the men on the ship, and that was after he told me he was unfamiliar with a flintlock. "Brother liked muskets and pistols better," he said.<p>

The only thing that confused him was the ammo. "Ours were silver," he muttered as he examined the little ball.

"For hunting?" I asked again.

He nodded. Holding the gun across his forearm, he lined up a shot with the target dangling from the mast. Tadashi was kind enough to let us borrow some fruit, which we jammed onto hooks. It didn't work as well as his dinner plates, but at least he wouldn't make me buy more this way.

Yama's shot tore across the edge of a lime, and he grumbled a curse. He wouldn't have the option to miss in a real fight. Reloading took too long even for him.

"What were you planning on hunting?" I pressed as he readied for another shot.

"Small game, I think. Food for the church and the like." He let out a slow breath before taking another shot. This time his aim was true. Kei lightly applauded from the crow's nest as the lime splattered.

It wasn't necessary for me to continue with my questions. I knew the answers already. "Did you train with any other weapons?"

"Knives, traps, basic things." He waved the question away with continued ignorance. His focus was set on taking out the targets.

"But you never went hunting?"

"Brother said I'd get to at 18." The idea seemed to finally strike him as odd. He paused, frowning at the gun.

"Are you sure he said you'd be hunting for food?"

He turned to face me, eyes firm. He didn't ask anything. He simply waited for me.

"I was told that church was a hunter breeding ground," I said. "But I didn't realize it truly was. I imagine your brother aimed to protect you from the supernatural until you were old enough." Perhaps that was the reason Ezra acted so cruelly toward Yama, because of my interference. But that didn't add up.

"I was old enough, but I failed the test," Yama whispered as though he'd slipped into a memory. He took aim at a pear, eyes glazed. "I thought a bullet wouldn't kill us."

"It won't, but a silver bullet will kill a werewolf."

His shot flew so wildly that he hit the apple instead. "That is not funny!" he snapped.

I decided it was best to leave things at that. He'd dealt with enough information for one day. "So would you like to take that gun with you, or would you prefer another?"

He placed his hands on his hips, halfheartedly glaring at me. "What will we be doing that I'll need a gun for?"

"_We_ won't be doing anything. I have a meeting with an acquaintance who will give us a fresh batch of supplies and a few upgrades. You should stick with any of the other crew and stay out of trouble. The gun is in case you don't."

I might as well have slapped him for the sheer offense on his face. "You say that like I'm just going to wander off and do something stupid. Every time you stick me with someone, they just complain to me that you're a terrible sire."

I held back a cringe. "Yama," I breathed through a sigh. "Do you know Spanish?"

"No," he huffed.

"Then it would be my suggestion that, if you plan on going into town, you go with someone who knows Spanish. Like Kei for instance."

I gestured up to her as she yelled down. "Yama, eres un idiota!"

Yama appeared to understand her meaning. "Is there anyone else who speaks Spanish?"

"Tochiro, Tadashi, most of the older boys," I shrugged. "I'll give you some money, so go buy yourself some nice clothes. And don't bite anyone." If we ran afoul the port's oldblood because Yama lost control, things would turn ugly quickly. "If something does go wrong, you have one shot in that gun, and then you have your legs. Above all else, Yama," I locked his shoulder in my grip and demanded the attention of his eyes. "You must get back to the ship before sunrise."

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><p><strong>What could possibly go wrong?<strong>

**If you can't tell, the reason I am asking that is because numerous things will go wrong. This is me we're talking about.**


	6. Fiat Voluntas Dei

**Fun fact about this chapter, I wrote the whole thing a few days ago, totaling to about 3500 words. I hated it, so I took it down two hours after posting it on my writing blog. This version is very different from the original, reworked structurally with only a few (heavily edited) paragraphs reused from the original. So, yeah, this chapter was a butt. Spot the blatant character cameos for fun.**

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><p>The port city showed no form of structure or reason. Even before we docked, the maze-like layout of the streets was visible from the outside. As far as I could see back, the buildings appeared placed and stacked at random, like a toddler built it from blocks.<p>

Another odd sight came in the form of a boy on the edge of one of the lower docks. He held his arm underwater, while an army of cats waited behind him. As I watched, he sat perfectly still, eyes closed. When he tore his arm from the inky black surface, a fish struggled against the grasp of his hand. The cats pounced on it as soon as the boy let go, a grin showing off sharpened teeth.

While everyone around me rushed around to tie the ship to the dock, I leaned against the railing and watched the boy try to lure in another fish. "You look like you're being tortured," Kei quipped as she strode up behind me. The skull and crossbones flag lay draped across her arm, folded and ready to be tucked away.

"I'm fine," I said. But this wasn't where I wanted to be. Back home the layout made no sense, but I still knew it. Here, I felt as though I might lose my way in the city and never make it out.

No one bothered to lower a plank as a bridge to the dock. They all just hopped over the side of the railing. As they spilled out toward the city, a towering man with a gray beard strode up through the crowd. Harlock stepped onto the railing before jumping. The planks of the dock gave threatening squeaks under his weight.

"That's the city's oldblood," Kei said as the man talked to Harlock. The conversation appeared diplomatic, both men standing with their arms crossed and their gazes even. I had to guess what the topic of conversation might be, unable to understand a word of their Spanish.

"What's his job?" I asked.

"Making sure all the other vampires in the city stay in line, and since we're here, that includes us. He probably has a scout scan the waters at night. No one would manage to sneak into this city without him letting them."

A splash signaled the boy on the other dock catching another fish. Few other sounds joined him – dogs baying and the rustle of gentle waves beneath us. For a city, it seemed to have fallen asleep with the night.

The oldblood called to the boy on the dock as Harlock called my name. "I know you and Kei enjoy each other's company so much." Despite the sarcasm, his tone remained even. "But I think you'll be better off with a guide that knows the town. Kei, you can go do whatever it is you do when we dock."

She perked up beside me, eyes bright with a smile. "Sounds good, Captain." After a haphazard salute, she smashed the dock underfoot and headed out.

The boy took her place, heading down the dock with a dozen cats trailing at his heels and one in his arms. He looked around seventeen but barely tall enough to stand in line with Harlock's chest. The warm brown of his skin matched the stripes of the tabby in his arms, and the rest of the cat's orange coloring matched his ginger hair, which flared out in every direction. Every one of his features looked sharp, especially his ears, so pointed he could have passed for a real demon.

"Yama," Harlock began again to grab my attention. "This is Meowdar. He'll be your translator and guide." I had a feeling Meowdar was also taking the role of my babysitter, but Harlock didn't feel like mentioning that.

Meowdar eyes caught me off guard when they turned to face me, blindingly blue like cornflowers. He offered a nod in greeting, and I returned it.

"Yama," Harlock said again. "Come on." He tilted his head opposite the ship, wanting me off like everyone else.

I vaulted the rail like Kei, though my feet stuttered a few steps across the boards from impact. Harlock thrust a palm-sized bag against my chest. "This will be enough to buy you a few outfits and some extra if there's anything you want. Don't let anyone steal it." The weight of coins settled in my hand, presumably Spanish currency.

"I will handle any pickpockets," Meowdar said as I tied the bag to by belt. His voice curled with an accent, rolling over words like the smooth but uneven surface of the ocean. The cat in his arms crawled up to his shoulders while he turned to shoo the rest away. They darted off into the city, vanishing in alleys. Meowdar started after them, and after Harlock pushed against my back, I followed.

I waited until we were between the rows of buildings before speaking. "What are they talking about?"

"The oldbloods?" Despite the sharpness of Meowdar's thin pupils, his gaze felt soft when he turned my way. "Your captain needs supplies, and we are providing them. Your captain also assured that you all know not to kill any humans here for blood."

For a moment, I thought of them as valiant for having such a rule. But not killing an innocent person wasn't commendable. It was common sense. Vampires deserved no praises for being reasonable. At least, I would give them none.

Even from inside the city, it felt empty. Only a handful of taverns offered the light of oil lamps to the darkened maze. We passed a few drunks, whose blood reeked of alcohol. I asked Meowdar if we could get drunk from drinking their blood. I meant it as a joke, and he did chuckle. "It is possible," he said. "Did you want to try?"

My laugh bounced with my nerves. "No, I'm near sick off blood at the moment. Our cook made sure I drank until I couldn't down another glass."

A bell tolled twice, but that was enough for the sound to rattle through the glass and vibrate the stone beneath our feet. I looked up, toward the tower that seemed to stand guard over all the smaller buildings. At the tower's apex sat a cross, pointing toward the stars. The bell eased back to a stop as I watched.

"Do hunters live there?" I asked.

"The church?" Meowdar frowned. "I'm not sure. I don't go there. The hunters don't like to make themselves known unless a human is drained. Then they kill a few of us until they decide justice has been done. We always return to a sort of peace in the end."

"Is that how things are in most cities?" I couldn't imagine Ezra killing anyone, even a vampire. I knew he had, but belief still escaped me.

Meowdar hummed in thought. "It is possible. I don't know of other cities. I have only lived in this one as a vampire."

He stopped us in front of a tailor shop, squashed between other stores. Each one looked as closed as the next. Before I could inform Meowdar of this, he tapped out a rhythm against the tailor's door, almost like a song in its quick beat. The door ripped inward before he finished.

The woman standing there looked like a ghost. Every inch of her was thin like blades of grass, her skin a sickly pale and eyes misted over by fog. She stared out over our heads, while another woman whose nose took up most of her face peered around the ghost's shoulder.

Meowdar exchanged a few words with them in Spanish. The ghost's voice fit her, soft like the rustle of grass in the wind. The other bubbled with unease until the ghost reached over to stroke her cheek. I looked to the floor until Meowdar returned to English. "How much are you looking to spend?" he asked me.

I felt no need to buy anything other than clothes, but when I opened the bag, I could only guess how much the golden coins could afford. Stuffing a handful in my breast pocket, I held out the rest toward the women. The ghost reached out, her eyes still focused on nothing, but her fingertips found the bag and closed around it. "I don't know how much this is," I confessed.

A squeak escaped the flighty tailor when the ghost pulled a coin from the bag. "Those are four-piece Escudos," Meowdar said. "If you give them that many, it can afford you some very nice fabric. I would say you could buy a full wardrobe, but I do not believe they can make so many outfits in just two days."

"I don't have anything else to do with it," I said with a shrug. "Nice fabric is fine with me."

With a slight bow, the ghost strode back into the shop, her shadow continuing to hide behind her. Entering the shop overwhelmed me with the scent of flowers - sweet hues with a hint of earthy soil. They dotted the walls and floors in pinks and blues. I traced the veins of petals with my eyes until Meowdar pulled me in front of a mirror. "They need to take your measurements," he said.

"I had flowers like these back home," I murmured. "I was in charge of growing them."

If the ghost was as blind as her eyes appeared, she showed no bother from it as she set to measuring my shoulders. Her shadow's hand shook as she held the tape up to my leg.

Meowdar nodded to the shadow. "Hanako grows these flowers. You can find them in any vampire shop around town. It's a symbol of a sort."

I offered Hanako a smile. "They're very pretty, miss." I couldn't be sure if she knew what I said, but her cheeks burned pink, and she kept at her work with a vengeance. The ghost laughed, just as airy as a ghost should.

After they measured more than seemed necessary, Meowdar helped us work out a sluggish conversation. Vague outlines of the outfits formed - light clothes for seafaring work, a proper suit in case I needed one, gloves, a new coat, and a couple other things I managed to forget in the shuffle of translations. By the end, I felt sure I had my money's worth.

The tailors bid us farewell with words I couldn't understand, and we were back on the street in time for the church bell to strike four. Meowdar's cat draped around his neck like a scarf and purred like the distant rumble of thunder. "Is there anywhere else you want to go?" he asked as he twirled the cat's tail around his finger.

I opened my mouth, once, twice, and again before I managed to speak. "Can I visit the church?"

Blue eyes widened in the first moment of genuine shock I'd seen from him. "You're a newblood, aren't you?" he asked.

I scratched the side of my neck as my gaze wandered to the overhanging bell tower. "I was raised in a church. I've never been away from one for this long. I just want to go walk in," I begged. "I won't cause any trouble."

Meowdar's brows pinched, sympathy bleeding from his eyes. "So you haven't been near a church since you turned." A sigh slipped from his lips as he too turned to see the bell tower. "Do you want the truth now, or do you want to go there and see it yourself?"

From the weight of his words, dread clawed at my gut. I had to swallow before I could speak. "Just let me see it."

He hummed his disapproval but turned and started down the street. "This way," he said. No note of emotion touched his voice.

The streets widened as we neared it. Less grime slicked the ground and building walls. When the tower stood around one last corner, Meowdar stopped. "You go as far as you like," he said. "I'll wait here, but tell me if you need anything."

As I circled around him and the corner, I could only think of his decision as a loss. The church stood proud, carved out of stone in the sort of detailing my home could never hope to match. A graveyard filled one half of its square, statues watching over it as they had our graveyard. I'd spent endless hours in ours, laying down flowers for all the otherwise forgotten stones.

In size alone, the church stood stories and spires above mine, the bell so large I couldn't imagine one man ringing it alone. A few candles shone in blurred halos behind the stained glass. No plan for a conversation formed should in case I ran into someone inside, but I desperately wanted to see every detail of its walls. This church was nothing like mine, but I still imagined it would be like home once it contained me.

Each step brought me closer to that absurd dream, and each step brought me closer to the crosses affixed the doors. Something about the sight of them made my eyes burn. I blamed it on the candles, though looking at them was a relief from the scalding of the crosses. As the distance to the door lessened, my knees weakened. My steps slowed, while my heart trilled in its terrified rhythm. I couldn't look directly at the door, my hand up to cover my eyes. The dread in my stomach spread out through my body like poison, until I fell to one knee. My trembling limbs refused to hold me up, refused to place me any closer to those horrible things. Sweat broke out across my skin from a stinging heat.

"No," I begged to God or whoever would listen. My voice, barely a whisper, cracked from the strain against my body.

"Yama." Meowdar's call echoed across the square. "Should I come get you?"

I looked back to see a blur of his form, heated tears stinging my eyes. I twitched my head in some semblance of a nod, and he appeared in a blink. His whole body stiffened as he fought against the same pain, but he had enough in him to grab me by the arm and pull me away. While my legs refused to hold me up, he dragged me back around the corner. I collapsed against the wall and slid down its surface until all I could feel was the coolness of stone.

"Why?" I whispered.

Meowdar pulled the cat from around his neck to place on mine. Its purring eased my breathing and allowed my ears something other than the sound of my blood rushing through my head.

"It's impossible to say," he sighed. "The church says it is because we are demons. I've also heard it's because we were forsaken by God, whether this was our choice or not. I don't understand why a loving God would do such a thing, but it's not for me to say."

"But Harlock!" I gasped. "Harlock walked around my church just fine!"

"Your captain is an oldblood. Either God forgives the oldbloods, or they are forgotten in time." He pet my hair like he would his cat. "We should go back to your ship. The Sun is rising."

I whispered, my chest aching. "But I want to see the Sun." I wanted to watch the flower garden sway with the wind like a sea of colors, pinks and purples and whites drifting together in time while the Sun burned overhead and heated my back. I wanted to watch rays filter through leaves and turn the color of Nami's hair. All that was so far away. Now, night lasted an eternity, and I was already tired of it.

"The Sun is not ours to see," Meowdar said. "But if you don't want to go back to your ship, I can take you elsewhere for shelter."

I felt no desire to ask where. I just felt tired, weak, and so sick of the night sky. "Anywhere is better than here," I said.

Once I regained my feet, we wandered through the maze again. This time, one by one Meowdar's cats returned to swarm around us. Every color and size joined their ranks. Some limped, and others missed an ear or eye. Meowdar plucked one from the crowd to place on his shoulder as the fringes of the sky turned purple. "If your captain is upset because of this, tell him it was not my idea before he kills me," he quipped.

I nodded, though his back faced me. At the rear of the herd, a kitten struggled to keep up, so I scooped him up in my hand and held him to my chest. "Cats like you," I said to Meowdar's back.

He barked a laugh. "Well, I do feed them."

He stopped in front of a charred building. Only the outside walls appeared to have survived a fire. In place of a door, a black husk of wood jammed the front closed. Despite its appearance, it didn't turn to ash when Meowdar pushed it open. The cats flooded in, followed by the two of us. "You take the bed," Meowdar said, sharp enough to suggest he would hear no arguments.

The "bed" was a pile of straw in the corner with a few blankets on top. Meowdar curled up in the opposite corner, while his cats turned to circles of fur around and on top of him. The one hanging from my neck jumped down to join them, but the kitten stayed with me even as I settled into the prodding straw. It found a spot against my neck, curled in a purring ball.

If Harlock felt like being mad, I didn't care. The ugly straw bed felt more like home than the plush feather bed ever did, and I didn't want him anywhere near me.


End file.
